


Morning Coffee.

by captnalbatr0ss



Series: The Captain and his Quartermaster [4]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:37:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captnalbatr0ss/pseuds/captnalbatr0ss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rafe likes his coffee black. Sam thinks he can change Rafe's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Coffee.

* * *

 

“Sam." 

 … 

"Sam!”

Sam poked his head in their bedroom, remote still in hand from flipping channels downstairs. He spotted Rafe on his side in bed, with the covers tugged up around him, up to his nose, and his voice was muffled. 

“What? You say somethin’?”

He watched Rafe’s body move under the covers, curling up, compacting even more. 

A yawn, and then—"What’re y'doing?“ 

Sam raised a brow. "Just, ah… Trying to find the news. Why?" 

"You could do that in here." 

Sam pretended he didn’t know that was Rafe’s roundabout way of asking him to come back to bed. "What was that? I didn’t quite—" 

Rafe grumbled something under his breath, pulling the covers all the way over his head. "Nothing. Never mind." 

But Sam only heard the sound, not the words, gruff and scratchy with sleep. He grinned, watching the small lump under the covers roll over and settle in. 

Sam backed out of the room, hustled downstairs, tossing the remote on the couch as he headed to the kitchen. He put on a pot of coffee, almost thought about making some breakfast, but Rafe didn’t usually go for eating in bed—experiments with sauces and whipped cream aside—so Sam decided against it. 

He hummed to himself, grabbing two mugs, a few more items from the fridge, and by the time the coffee was done, and poured, and doctored just right, Sam fully expected Rafe to have fallen back asleep. 

He carried both mugs back upstairs, tiptoeing to the bed. Rafe was still completely covered, but he’d stretched out. Sam set the mugs down and carefully lifted the corner of the sheets, slipping under, moving against Rafe. 

Rafe let out a soft sigh, shifting, fitting himself against Sam with ease. His eyes slowly opened as Sam’s arms slid around him. 

"Mornin’ glory.” Sam leaned in, breathing the words against the sensitive skin behind Rafe’s ear, enjoying the shiver it earned him. 

“Mm.” Rafe twisted himself carefully in Sam’s arms, facing him as their legs tangled. “Thought you went back downstairs." 

"I did. Made us some coffee.” Sam took advantage of their new position, let one hand slide down to Rafe’s ass as he brushed his lips along Rafe’s jaw. 

“Sam.” Rafe tipped his head to the side to give Sam room. 

“Mm?" 

"What kind is it this morning?" 

Sam grinned, the hand on Rafe’s left cheek moving more center, and he felt Rafe take a sharp breath. 

"You know I can’t tell you before you taste it, you’ll never really give it a try." 

"I gave the last seven a try and I still prefer it black." 

Sam pressed a kiss to Rafe’s forehead, using the leverage of his hand on Rafe’s ass to pull him closer, the leg between Rafe’s moving higher, casually teasing with his thigh.

"You just gotta give me more time. I’m gonna find one. I’m getting close." 

"Ah— mmm. I will be, too, if you keep that up." 

Rafe fidgeted against Sam, eyes closing again as Sam urged their hips together harder, still slow, still lazy. 

Something about Rafe first thing in the morning, only half awake, his eyes heavy lidded and his voice thick with sleep—Sam couldn’t get enough, he wasn’t sure why. 

Sam pressed his face to Rafe’s hair, still messy from his pillow, and inhaled deeply. 

"Hey.” He tapped Rafe’s nose softly with one knuckle, grinning. 

“Mm." 

Sam sat up, leaning against the headboard and pulling Rafe with him, offering him the coffee. 

Rafe took it, eyeing the contents skeptically. 

"C'mon, babe. For me?" 

Rafe rolled his eyes, but obliged, taking a careful sip. 

Sam watched his face, encouraged when he didn’t grimace right away. 

“Well?" 

Rafe looked thoughtful, and almost confused. He furrowed his brow, glancing down again, and taking another sip. 

Sam grinned. "Hey! You don’t hate it!" 

Rafe shook his head at Sam’s enthusiasm, but he couldn’t help but smile, too. 

"No, I don’t hate it. It’s the least off-putting so far." 

Sam beamed, proud. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Rafe’s mouth, carefully taking the mug from him, switching it with the other one still on the nightstand. 

"Thank you,” Sam said, wrapping an arm around Rafe’s shoulders. 

“Mmhm.” Rafe closed his eyes, took a long drink of the coffee in his new mug—black, just as he liked it. 

Sam finished off the other mug, chattering amiably to Rafe while he finished his, taking his mug again when it was empty, setting it aside. 

“Ay Rafe, where’s the remote?" 

Rafe glanced at the bureau beneath the wall mounted flat screen. The remote was resting on top. 

"Damn. All the way over there,” Sam pouted. “I don’t wanna get up. Babe? You wanna—" 

But Rafe was moving, pushing back the sheets enough to lift up, move over Sam. He settled on Sam’s lap, hands on Sam’s chest as he leaned down, catching Sam’s lips in a deep kiss. 

He tasted of coffee, and morning, and sleep—of the last remnants of minty toothpaste from the night before—and to Sam it was exquisite. 

"I have a better idea.” Rafe slowly rolled his hips, drawing out a long and low moan from Sam. 

“Is that— ohhmm…fuck, baby—" 

Rafe offered a sly half grin, watching Sam from beneath his heavy eyelids. "Mm. I need a refill. And you know, I think I’ll take a little…heavy cream this time…" 

Sam’s eyes darkened even as he laughed. "Hey. Not bad, I think some of my wit and charm must be rubbing off on ya." 

Rafe chuckled, leaning down and kissing Sam so slow, so deep, and Sam’s mind emptied. 

"What, nothing clever this time?” Rafe smirked as he pulled back. 

Sam gripped Rafe’s hips firmly, flipping them, tugging Rafe’s underwear down, and then his own—just enough. “Why don’t you shut up and lemme get ya that refill?”


End file.
